


Fighting for life

by roo1965



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Allergies, Angst, Episode Tag, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mistaken Identity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-29
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 07:20:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roo1965/pseuds/roo1965
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has to deal with the after effects of Starkville Prison.</p><p>S3 Prisoner X</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fighting for life

**Author's Note:**

> another Jim owie fic… (Is there any other kind?!!). This is unbeta'd, any mistakes are mine alone. Written 15 March to 23 April 2005 .

Jim

I told Simon that I needed some space. I needed to sit out in the open. Somewhere without walls. He let me go. As I came out of the exit Sandburg rushed up, jiggling about right in front of me. I put my hand on his chest to ward him off.

“Don't! Not now Sandburg alright?” He opened his mouth to speak but I put two fingers across his mouth and shook my head at him. Poor kid was bursting with questions and I don't know what. Simon could fill him in. I wasn't dead, what more did he want?

I turned and walked off across the car lot trying to think about nothing at all. No despairing voices, no hatred, no blood, no betrayal… Some minutes later I blearily registered a stray SWAT guy passing me in the other direction. Suddenly I felt a hand on my arm twisting it up behind me, pushing me face first onto a car, a gun hard in my back. Stupid rookie had taken one look at my prison clothes and come to the wrong conclusion. That was the second time that'd happened to me…

“Don't try and run,” he said as I heard the safety unclick. I could hear Blair and Simon shouting way off in the distance.

“Get your hands off me. You're making a big mistake,” I growled.

“Don't even think about it,” he said, reaching for his handcuffs.

His radio squawked and in the fraction of a second that he was distracted I flung my head back and head butted him and brought my other elbow round to jab him in the chest.

As he brought his hands up to clutch his face and nose I whirled round and kicked him in the knee, he went down. I grabbed his gun and threw it away, where it promptly smashed through a car window and set the alarm off.

Startled, I pulled him up off the ground and pushed him face first against the same car, his arms now twisted up his back. “I'm Detective Ellison. I'm undercover! You dumb schmuck!” I was incandescent with rage. I shook him hard, his head bounced off the side of the car. “Leave me alone! You hear?” One false move and he'd be mincemeat. Oh yeah. God, what an adrenaline rush…

He nodded frantically and I let him go. He listened to his squawking radio while I tried to dial the alarm noise down. The sound pulsed in and out. He didn't come after me, so I guess he'd got the real deal from Simon. I hadn't killed the guy, what more did they want from me?

I carried on walking away into the dark. Let down again by the PD. Why hadn't they bailed me out like I asked them to? What took them so long? I was stuck in there for far longer than I needed to be. Damn risky. Damn damn damn.

My senses spiked and my vision went blurry again. The car alarm wail wavered in and out like someone turning the volume up and down. I felt every one of those punches to my body. Fighting for my life again. Like so many times before. I got left behind again. My chest was tight and burning and I bent slightly to cough. I tried to dial things down a bit, remembering what Sandburg had drilled into me. Gradually things calmed down some.

The ground rose up to a banked slope that ran round the car lot perimeter. Relieved, I sat down on the earth bank and tried to process things.

Damn Miller, he'd still be alive if he hadn't tried to weasel in on the guards little scam. Dead, shot in the back like the other undercover cop, Matty and a whole bunch of other prisoners who didn't deserve it. I hadn't been able to prevent Liotta or Comancho from being killed either.

Failed again. Close, so close.

I put my head in my hands and was surprised to feel wetness. The pepper spray was making my eyes run. My senses were fading in and out. Suddenly smell and touch were back, waaaay up, and I could feel the intense burning sensation in my nose and throat from the pepper spray. Although Vinson had aimed at my eyes, I had breathed some in too.

Painful, burning. Tissues swelling up.

My chest felt tight again, and I tried to breathe in and out normally. But I began to panic as I realised I wasn't getting enough oxygen. Numbness crept along my limbs, dizziness made me fall onto my back. I lay there blinking up at the stars as the tears ran from my eyes, gasping for breath as the darkness crept in….

//….Blair!...//

/-------------------\

Blair

I watched Jim stalk off, slightly put out at his attitude. Simon appeared after a minute.

“Is Jim really okay, Simon?”

“I'm sure he will be, Sandburg. He said he wanted some open air, some space. He'll come back when he's ready.”

“He looked a little, I don't know, frazzled. I'm worried.”

“Turns out the prison has an illegal fight syndicate. Jim had to fight another prisoner. It's how some of the prisoners were killed, that's what the doctor was documenting when he was killed too.”

“That's terrible Simon. At least Jim was upright, but he should still get checked out just in case.”

“When he comes back, if you can get him to, Sandburg,” Simon moved to one side as Garvin, one of the SWAT team came up to talk to him. I turned back to track Jim's progress.

“Aaah, Simon?” I said, grabbing his arm.

“What?” he replied irritated.

”Look….” I pointed. We watched in horrid fascination as a SWAT officer checking the car lot, spotted Jim and forced him against a car at gunpoint.

“Hey!” shouted Simon and thumbed his radio.

“Jim!” I yelled at the same time. Jim didn't turn in our direction.

Jim quickly turned the tables on the SWAT guy, and flung something that smashed a car window setting off the alarm. I saw Jim's momentary flinch, before he picked him off the ground and shouted at the man. Bad day to pick on the big guy. Jim left the SWAT officer and carried on walking away.

“Confirmed, that was Detective Ellison working undercover. Sergeant, report to me by the main entrance,” said Simon into his radio.

“What did Garvin want?” I asked Simon.

“Said they'd found a lot of hunting knives near the ring. They found a pepper spray too.”

“That doesn't sound too good. What about Jim? Has anyone said anything about his fight?”

“I was just going to tell you, when Jim did his thing over there. You may be right about checking up on him in a minute,” replied Simon.

“If that was supposed to reassure me. It's not working Simon.” I bristled.

“Jim was put up against the prison's biggest and best fighter. A man called Vinson. Apparently he got a few solid hits in before using a pepper spray on Jim. But Jim managed to get his own back before he knocked him out.”

“Oh, this is not good! I'd better find him.”

“I can't see him Sandburg. It's getting too dark.”

Simon was right; while we had been talking we'd taken our eye off Jim's progress. I scanned the car lot back and forth. Nothing. Movement out of the corner of my eye made me turn.

A black panther with its teeth bared was heading towards me. It growled and leapt at me. As it passed through me, a heavy paw pushing at my chest, I distinctly heard Jim call out.

//….Blair!...//

I gasped and took a step forward.

“Sandburg?”

“You didn't see that?”

“What?”

“Nothing. I think I know where Jim is!” I said heading off to follow the panther now trotting ahead of me.

“How can you see anything?” called Simon.

“Simon, hurry! Get one of the paramedics and the ambulance to follow me. If I'm right we're going to need them.”

“Is this one of those weird things again?”

“Just do it Simon! Now!” I called as I started running.

And then I was there, with Jim, kneeling by his side as he gasped for air. His reddened teary eyes were shut with the effort.

”Jim! I'm here, big guy,” I soothed palming his face, hoping the contact would help.

“h..hhurts….” he panted, eyes opening briefly, a hand clutching at my arm.

“This from the pepper spray, Jim? Yes?”

He managed a nod. I turned round as I saw red lights flashing, the ambulance that was despatched with the SWAT team, was heading over here at last.

“I'm here now. Calm down okay?”

He tried. I blotted his eyes with a tissue from my pocket.

“Watch me. Slowly. Breathe in and then slowly out. Shhh. It's going to be okay.”

“S..sandbu…” he stuttered as he managed to hold a breath before noisily letting it out. All it made him do was cough.

“Jim! “

The ambulance parked right behind us. The paramedic's big box made a reassuring sound as he placed it on the ground next to us.

“What have we got?”

“Pepper spray to the face. Making it hard for him to breathe. He's hyperventilating. Don't know how big a dose he had, but he's sensitive to a lot of things. He was also in a fight in the prison. Don't know if he's hurt somewhere else as well.”

“Okay, we'll get ..?

“Jim. I'm Blair. He's a cop. I work with him,” I explained.

“I'm Carl. Jim needs some oxygen, he's going cyanotic. Ryan? Pass the eyewash as well buddy.”

Carl efficiently hooked him up to a small bottle of oxygen, and began to check Jim over. Jim flinched as he was prodded and then gently rolled as they checked his back.

Gradually Jim's frantic breaths slowed down and I realised that I was kneeling there with one hand on his chest, the other at his forehead above the face mask straps.

“Better now?” asked Carl, holding the eyewash bottle, while his partner unloaded the gurney from the back of the ambulance.

Jim nodded and tried to sit up and push the mask away.

“Hey, that's staying on. We're going to transport you to hospital so they can monitor things.”

I felt a tug. Jim was shaking his head; he moved his hand from my shirt and pushed the mask away again.

“No… hos…hospital!” he said.

“Jim, you have to. Just overnight, please,”

“Don't. Want. To.”

“Detective Ellison, if the experts say you need to go, then you're going. That's an order!” Simon had arrived.

I saw Jim glare at his boss despite how crappy he must be feeling. He sighed and the fight went out of him just like that.

We went to the hospital.

/----------------------\

Jim

Home at last. I thanked Joel for the lift and shut the door.

Overnight at the hospital was almost too much. Although there wasn't as much hatred and violence going on, there was still too much pain washing about the place. Even if I picked up the children's or the Maternity wards it was joy mixed with sorrow.

I thought I was going to lose it. Too many people. It was eating away at me again.

I know they were worried about the after effects of the pepper spray. I had given in to Simon's order. I just wanted the peace and quiet of the Loft and my own bed to sleep in.

Assuming I could actually get some sleep now I was here. I hadn't managed a lot in Starkville that was for sure. Ditto the hospital.

I opened the patio doors and sat in the chair for a while, my feet resting on the balcony edge. Still not sleepy, dammit. I got up and looked in the fridge to see if there was any beer left. There was a knock at the door.

My annoyance at the interruption disappeared when I opened the door to find Kelly standing there.

“Jim. I wasn't sure if I'd find you here or not. Your Captain phoned me and told me what happened yesterday.”

“Come on in, Kelly. How are you doing?” I led her to the lounge area. We sat opposite each other.

“I've been better Jim, you know? I can't thank you enough for going in there. The prison. It can't have been easy.”

“Matty was a good friend, anyone would have done it.” I said.

“No they wouldn't! You did. And it almost got you killed.”

“I'm okay, Kelly honestly. Can I offer you a drink or anything?”

“No, I just wanted to come by and thank you in person. I can see you look tired.”

“Okay. Keep in touch,” I said meaning it as I walked her to the door.

“Here's my parents address, I'm going to stay with them for a while.” She handed me a piece of paper. “Bye Jim,” she murmured before giving me a quick hug and kiss on the cheek and walking away.

If Kelly could begin to move on, then maybe I should get things into perspective too. Tiredness washed over me, my eyes felt gritty despite the eyewash treatments. I was breathing fine now. The only aches I had were from the vicious punches Vinson had managed to land on me.

I left the beer bottle and paper on the table and went upstairs to bed. Sliding between the smooth sheets and cover, I sank with relief against the pillows.

Images flashed in front of my eyes. Kelly's arrival last week telling me of Matty's death. Being in prison. The noise. The beatings. The daily death threats. Sandburg appearing as the writing teacher. Putting the last message in the laundry bag. Miller getting shot in front of my eyes. Fighting Vinson in a fight to the death. Fighting for breath. Fighting for life.

Up until this morning before I left the hospital I had still been bitter about being left in the prison for a day longer than necessary. Simon said my last message didn't ask for me to be pulled out. As I told Simon and Blair my side of the story we worked out that Miller must have switched the note. There was nothing I could have done to prevent it.

My friends had come for me. Blair came when I most needed him. Kelly had thanked me for laying Matty's death to rest. I just had to forgive myself for not doing more while in the prison. I could certainly help Turner get his parole. It was a start.

I yawned and snuggled into the bedclothes.

//…in a blue jungle a black panther paced steadily up and down before shaking its head and yawning. More pacing, yawning and then padding round and round in circles until the ground was just right. The panther finally sank to the ground and slept - restlessly at first, then quieter. After a while a wolf appeared and sat on guard from a short distance….//

/-----------------\

Blair

I let myself into the Loft quietly, hoping that Jim was asleep or at least resting up.

He had given us quite a scare yesterday. The oxygen given to him at the scene calmed him down enough to stabilise him for the trip to the hospital. Once there they hooked him up to continuous oxygen, and all we had to do was stop him from scratching or pulling at the nasal cannula. Luckily the effects of the pepper spray hadn't totally compromised his airway and he didn't need to be intubated. He hated that. Getting his eyes washed must have been a relief too. The verdict on his fight with Vinson was bruised ribs and back. Nothing cracked or broken. He'd just be a bit sore.

I returned home to sleep and went back in the morning before going on to the University. That way I saw how well Jim was and heard his side of the story.

Simon and I were taken aback at Jim's attitude when we arrived.

“Do you think you could at least spring me out of the hospital? And not take a day to get it done this time!” Not welcoming words.

“Sleep well?” I asked.

“No! I want to go home, now." Jim fumed.

“What do you mean ‘take all day'?” asked Simon.

“You know very well. I asked to be pulled asap. You didn't. I had to fight Vinson. And Miller died right in front of me. Okay he was scum, but he didn't have to die!” Jim shouted at Simon.

“Whoa, Jim! Your note didn't say that at all!” I said hotly, since it was me that picked up the note.

Simon went one better and handed him the note.

“Oh,” said Jim completely deflated.

“Did you really think if you'd asked to be pulled, we'd leave you in there a moment longer than necessary?” retorted Simon angrily.

“No. It's just you didn't come and things got a little hairy.”

That was when we worked out it must have been this Miller who switched the note and tagged along with Jim on his escape plan.

I had to go then, I had classes to give. Simon would make sure Jim would get a lift home with somebody rather than get a cab on his own.

Simon had phoned me at midday to say Jim was being released, Joel was on it and that he'd contacted Matty's widow Kelly.

I put my bag on my bed rather than throwing it in the corner as usual. I looked around. I spotted the beer bottle on the table. It was unopened and anchored a piece of notepaper. I saw it was an address for Kelly. She'd obviously dropped by.

Jim wasn't on the patio despite the door being slid part way open. But I guessed that he had sat here for a while.

I trod softly up the steps to Jim's room.

Good. He was sound asleep. I knew he didn't sleep well in hospitals- who does? The prison must have been bad too.

What was that on his cheek? Aww. Sweet. A kiss from Kelly to her hero, a knight in shining armour.

I left him to his rest. I was downstairs if he needed me.

If he wanted to talk.

Or even if he didn't. I was a fixed constant in his life whether he liked it or not. I'd have to tell him about the panther I'd seen and the voice I'd heard. I had a feeling he wasn't going to be that surprised about it. He had absorbed the Chopec culture for eighteen months after all. It was going to be an interesting conversation.

END


End file.
